


A Derry Girl and An English Boy

by Reylo19



Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mature themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-01-14 12:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18476659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reylo19/pseuds/Reylo19
Summary: Erin and James sneak into the school science classroom to finally be alone together.





	1. The Science Room Incident

Why? Why did this kind of thing _always_ happen to them?

It had been nothing more than a chance at release, one quick moment together after weeks of hiding their relationship from everyone else, looking for any slivers of time they could spend in just each other’s company in the town where nothing was private, and something like this could turn out disastrously if revealed.  
The Quinn home was a complete no-go for alone time - Erin’s parents and Mrs McCool were in every evening and even if they worked late Granda Joe and Orla still posed the threat of them being discovered. And quite frankly, James did not want to meet his end half-naked and at the hands of Erin’s granddad. His house was no good either; what with Michelle in the next room to his and her habit for bursting in completely unannounced just to annoy him.

So they had snuck into the science classroom during the lunch break at James’s suggestion, the one place in the school he knew would be empty from helping the teacher, Mr Declan, clean up after classes. Their fatal mistake, however, was that they were too giddy with excitement and pent-up teenage hormones that it had never even occurred to them to block the door. The second James closed it behind them, all it had taken was one look and they practically leapt on one another, colliding in a breathtaking kiss.  
James’s blazer was first to go, then his tie. They stumbled through the chairs and desks clumsily, unable to find a suitable spot, until in a surge of impatience he grabbed the backs of her thighs and swiftly deposited her onto the counter, not even pausing to break away from their kiss, releasing a surprised squeak from Erin that made him smirk against her lips. Contrary to popular belief, he had had experience with girls back in England.  
Though of none of them came even close to the girl in front of him, her usually neatly styled blonde hair now dishevelled and sticking to her forehead, her breath ragged and her lips swollen. Completely wild and undone and messy and everything about herself she disliked and tried to hide. Everything he loved about her. He’d never seen anything so perfect.

‘What?’ Erin said questioningly as he abruptly pulled away, a half-confused smile playing on her lips as she searched his face.

‘Nothing, just…’ he replied, and the look in his eyes made Erin almost melt on the spot. ‘You are so beautiful, you know that?’

Erin felt a heat creep into her cheeks and quickly ducked her head away from his gaze. She let out a half-hearted laugh in an attempt to hide her embarrassment, ‘Catch yourself on, James…’

‘I mean it.’

'Come off it, James,' Erin scoffed slightly, trying to smooth down her hair, still avoiding his gaze. 'We both know I'm not Katya, and I'm no model. You're not shifting me cause of my looks.'

James paused, his face suddenly solemn. ‘You're right, I'm not. And quite frankly, I couldn't care less wether you look like a model or like Katya or anyone else who's ever made you think you're not beautiful, because you are, in your own spectacular, mad way.'

Erin shook her head dejectedly, 'James, you don't have to-'

'I love the way that you look at the world and always try to see the good, even when it's absolute shit some days,' James said, a slow smile starting at the corners of his mouth, 'I love how you always speak your mind and you never, ever, compromise how you think for anyone else. I love that you watch stupid, funny skit shows instead of the news when you think no one's around. I love that you keep on writing and challenging yourself, even when you don't think you're any good.'

'James-' He paused, and put a hand under her chin, tilting it upwards so she met his eyes, staring right back into hers, earnest and warm. 'Erin, do you know the moment I knew I wanted to be more than your friend?'

She remained silent. 'When your mum rang me on prom night. I And I saw you at the top of the stairs in that Easter dress… you knocked me off my feet,' he continued softly, 'And you smiled at me and you were just yourself, no bullshit or pretending to be something you weren't, and that's how I knew. That's how you're beautiful - exactly as you are.'

It took her a moment to take in his words, before a smile spread across her face, filling her completely with warmth and emotion. How in God’s name had the sweetest, most earnest and genuine boy she knew ended up wanting her? Staring at her like his whole world lay inside her eyes.

Erin let out a sniffle, finding her eyes unexpectedly wet. 'I am glad it was you who showed up in the end, you know,’ she murmured, laying her head on his shoulder before letting out a small laugh. ‘Even with that ridiculous stripey scarf…’

James pulled back, raising an eyebrow. ‘I’ll have you know that was my best Doctor Who cosplay,’ he teasingly corrected her.

‘Aye, for your creep convention,’ she teased right back, before leaning her forehead against his, ‘You’re an eejit,’ she smirked, ‘but not a bad ride, for an English fella.’

James grinned. ‘Not a bad ride for a Derry girl, thank-you very much.’

Erin rolled her eyes playfully, and one of her hands that had been linked around his neck dropped and made its way steadily lower until her thumb brushed the waistband of his trousers, making James’s breath hitch and his lower half feel considerably tighter.

‘Shut up and keep kissing me, alright?’ she murmured, sliding her hand across so it just ghosted his lower abdomen. ‘There’s only ten minutes left of lunch, and I intend to make them count.’

James pulled her closer, barely brushing her lips with his. ‘Try and stop me.’

The next few minutes flew by in a haze of kissing, touching and exploring each other. Erin’s blazer soon found a new home on a nearby chair, her jumper following suit when she flung it across the room and it landed in one of the sinks, before wrapping her legs tightly around James’s hips as he pulled his jumper over his head, discarded it on the floor and began fervently working on undoing the buttons of Erin’s school shirt with one hand. The other trailed its way up her leg, over her thigh and under the folds of her skirt to rest on a spot that elicited a sharp gasp from Erin.

James pulled back his hand, startled. 'I'm sorry! D-Did I do something wrong?' _Oh Christ..._ He felt a bolt of panic run through him - they'd never really gone this far before, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel pressured into something she wasn't ready for. 'Do you need to stop?' He searched her face for an answer, reaction, but got nothing back. ' _Erin_?'

 

Finally her eyes locked onto his and darkened in a way he hadn't been expecting. 'James, I swear to Christ if you don't put your hand back where it was a second ago, _I will_!'

James let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. 'Oh thank God! Don't _do that_ \- I thought I'd hurt you or something.' relieved he hadn't royally fucked up in some way. 

Erin couldn't help but grin. 'Quite the opposite, you idiot.'

'So... that's okay, then?'

 _'Definitely_.'

 

Despite himself, James felt a grin forming, pleasantly surprised he had managed to get that sort of reaction from just using his hand on her. If doing _that_ meant making her feel like this, undone and breathless, then he'd be more than happy to oblige.

'As you wish,' he smirked, resuming his ministrations with a new confidence, then began putting his, Erin had to admit, _very_ skilled mouth to work with a searing trail of kisses down her neck and collarbone that made her swear she could see stars behind her eyes.

And then it all went to shite.

_‘Sweet suffering Christ!’_

If Erin Quinn had to make a list of the most mortifying situations she would never want to be in the middle of, getting caught practically dry-riding her secret English boyfriend in the science room by her terrifying nun headmistress with her school shirt unbuttoned and James’s hand under her skirt would have been right at the very top.

_Why did these things always happen to them?_


	2. Jesus Does Not Approve

Sister Michael’s P.O.V:

Few things deterred Sister Michael, let alone left her speechless. She had seen a lot in her life and prided herself on being a strong woman of reason, discipline and with a will of iron. But this… this was something else altogether.  
Her eyes travelled across the room, taking in the, for lack of a better word, unusual scene before her, from the hastily-dropped schoolbags, the chair lying on its side, the various items of clothing strewn on the floor, then finally landing on the shocked, steadily growing red faces of Erin Quinn and James Maguire, currently entangled in a very compromising position.

Sister Michael made a slightly strangled noise and tried opened her mouth to speak, when, as if the good Lord himself had decided to give her a helping hand in voicing her disapproval, the little wooden crucifix on the classroom wall promptly fell off its mount and clattered to the floor at her feet. Regaining her composure, she straightened up and barked;

'Just what in the name of _Christ_ is going on here?!’

The two teens leapt away from each other as if electrocuted. Erin hastily attempted to button her shirt and her face paled rapidly; ‘Sister, this isn’t what-’

‘Isn’t what, Miss Quinn?’ She snapped, turning to the blonde teen with a thunderous look. ‘Isn’t what? “What it looks like”? Because what it looks like to me is yourself and Mr Maguire, half-dressed- Mr Maguire, what in God’s name are you doing?’

Her and Erin’s gazes swivelled to look at James, who was facing the other way and looking frantically for something on the floor. Sister Michael sighed, ‘For the love of God, James, turn around.’

‘I-I’d really rather not, Sister…’ James stammered nervously.

Sister Michael’s expression took a dangerous form. ‘That was not a question.’

James turned around with as much dignity as a sixteen-year-old boy with an erection hastily covered by a school blazer could, which was none. None at all.

Sister Michael slapped a hand to her face and willed the Good Lord to just kill her, kill her now.

Erin stepped forward, ‘Sister, what happened was-’

Sister Michael abruptly held up a finger to silence her; ‘No. No. Do not speak to me, do not look at me, and for the sake of my sanity please for the love of God do not even _try_ to describe what happened in this room as I shall already be requiring a gin and possibly an _exorcism_ to erase what I have just witnessed from my head!’

She paused before pointing between them. ‘You two have exactly _five minutes_ to make yourselves presentable, then to my office immediately.’

And with one final glower, she swept out of the room.

Once out of view of the students, she took a moment to lean against the doorframe, sighed and rubbed her temple. _Christ but she didn't get paid enough to deal with this shite…_

 


	3. Feelings

 

Erin’s P.O.V: 

 

Erin pushed herself of of the counter and slid to the floor, dumbstruck. She felt dizzy and sick, a million thoughts swimming round her head as the reality of the situation dawned on her. She pressed a hand to her mouth, ‘We’re going to get expelled…’ 

 

‘Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my _God_ …’ were the only words James seemed able to muster as he paced the room, his face in his hands.

 

‘She’s going to tell my parents and then my ma’s gonna kill me-’

 

‘Oh my God, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!! _’_

 

'James, will you please stop saying “oh my God” for five fecking minutes?!’ Erin finally burst out, throwing her hands in the air.

 

‘Sorry. I’m okay now, I’m fine…’ He exhaled heavily and ran a hand through his hair, ‘Jesus Christ. That could not have gone worse.’

 

‘Oh wow, you think so? Really, it _couldn’t have gone worse_?What the hell are we gonna do?!'

 

‘Whoah, whoah, why are you freaking out?’ He knelt down and grasped Erin’s hands in his, rubbing soothing circles on her knuckles. ‘Don’t panic. It’s okay, we were going to tell people pretty soon anyways, right?’

 

‘Aye, then everyone’ll know I’m with an English fella…’ Erin muttered with her face in her hands.

 

James’s face fell suddenly. ‘I thought I was a Derry girl now.’ 

 

Feeling a pang of guilt hit her, Erin shifted awkwardly. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Look, y-you don’t get it, James, people’ll look and they’ll… talk.’

 

‘So?’ James pressed gently. ‘I thought you were the type of person who didn’t care what other people think about you.’ 

 

‘Yeah, but- ugh, this isn’t how I wanted it to happen!’ Erin groaned, panic rising in her. She shrugged her hands out of his and raked them through her hair; ‘We agreed not to tell anyone at first, and now - oh Jesus, now this happened! This was not the plan, James - we have gone _radically_ off-plan!’

 

‘Yeah, but we only agreed not to tell anyone because we’d only just realised we liked each other and didn’t want to wreck anything by jumping headfirst into a relationship! I really don’t get what’s wrong here - this was always going to happen.’ He paused and looked at her, confusion slowly spreading across his face. 'Wasn't it?'

 

‘I..I just wanted to wait a while, I wasn’t sure how everyone would react!’

 

‘Erin, it’s been a month! Just how long did you think we were going to be able to keep this up?’

 

‘Jesus James, I dunno, I just…’ Her voice trailed off as she realised she didn’t have the answer. 

 

‘What? You don’t want people to know you’re with me?’ James’s face dropped  suddenly. 'Is...is that why?’ He backed away a few steps. ‘Because…. because I’m English, because dating me would be worse than dating a Protestant?’ James let out a disbelieving scoff and looked at her, hurt and realisation spreading across his face. ‘Because you’re _embarrassed_? Is that it?’ 

 

‘James, come on, that’s not what I meant,’ Erin fumbled for words as she stood up to her full height, crossing her arms. ‘I.. I just… It’s complicated!’

 

‘How the hell is it complicated - either you like me or you don’t! Why should what everyone else thinks matters?’

 

Erin made a frustrated noise and threw up her hands; ‘Because it just _does_ , okay, because nothing here is bloody private, and when people find out-’

 

‘When people find out, I won’t care what they think! I want to be with you and that should be all that matters - but clearly, not to you!’

 

The moment the words hit her, Erin felt a cold sensation twist her insides. She stopped suddenly and met James’s gaze. ‘That’s not fair. Let me explain-'

 

‘You know what, I don’t need an explanation. You’ve made it pretty clear exactly what you think.’

 

‘ _James_ -’

 

‘Forget it, Erin. I don’t want to hear it.’ He picked his bag and turned towards the door. ‘I’m going to go wait outside Sister Michael’s office.’ James shifted slightly, eyes downcast. ‘You know, I really thought you were better than this. I guess I was wrong.’ 

 

The door slammed shut behind him.

 

The room was silent. Erin stood frozen, sadness, shock and anger running through her. She walked shakily to the nearest chair and dropped into it, the argument flooding her mind, all those things they’d said, how badly she’d handled it, made him feel like she was ashamed of what they’d been doing… In truth, it was the last thing she wanted to do. Did this mean they were over? After all they’d went through?

 

Looking back, Erin would never in a million years have seen this coming. 

 

A Derry girl with an English boy… James may have been accepted into their group, their mad little family, but they still lived in the most divided city in the UK. Being friends was one thing, but dating…. Something like this would spread like wildfire and result in being disowned by half of Derry. James was largely ostracised by most people already, they heard his accent and scowled, muttered harsh words under their breath, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. Erin couldn’t bear to think what might happen to him if word got out he was also now shifting one of their own.

 

It had all started the day he almost left.

 

***

They had gone out to celebrate that night, Michelle suppling them with two bottles of vodka after having raided her ma’s drink cupboard. It was near 1 o’clock in the morning, and the gang were wandering through the Derry streets, occasionally passing the last few drunken stragglers decked out in red, white and blue from the presidential visit.

‘You’re a fuckin’ Derry girl, James! Yer home… ish here… not fuckin’ London… ish here! Weeell, maybe ish not right _here_ , like, not the street…’ Michelle was, to put it in her own words, absolutely fucking flying. 

Erin watched with mild disapproval as her mate stumbled along the cobblestones, a nearly empty bottle of vodka in one hand that she had developed a concerning habit of flinging outwards at will. A lot of the alcohol had ended up on the ground rather than down her throat over the course of the night. The fact she had still managed to get that spectacularly pissed on so little was a miracle in itself. 

But she couldn’t concentrate - not even on judging Michelle’s drunken misdemeanours, which happened to be a fond pastime of hers. Everything about the day had left her in a sort of aftershock, the reality of it all not quite yet sinking in. James almost leaving and then coming back at the last minute had rocked the whole group, leaving them all, but mostly her, with feelings she didn’t know what to do with. 

Because the moment James had told them, those words of “I’m going back to London”, that was when her mind had stopped functioning. A cold, foreign feeling had twisted her stomach into one big, tight knot, and she couldn’t bring herself to say anything, too shocked to comprehend it and not wanting to accept it. She’d watched him turn and walk away, Michelle marching after him with fury in her eyes, and reappear again, crestfallen but stoic, and her heart had plummeted straight into her shoes at the reality that he was leaving.

And then he’d come back just as quickly as he’d left, while the girls had stood in the midst of the most historic moment of their lives and not caring at all, because their friend was gone. Then, Orla had yelled in her ear, they’d turned around, saw his stupid, grinning face and curly hair, arms flung outwards and yelling like his life depended on it.

It was like her heart had been restarted. She’d pushed her way through the crowds with the girls, willing her feet to move faster than they’d ever gone before, rounded the corner of the archway and collided with him in a pile-up, smiles splitting their faces and warmth radiating throughout their group - their mental family, reunited and whole. She had flung her arm around his shoulder and lain her head against his for just a moment, breathing him in and not quite able to believe what was happening.

_A perfectly platonic gesture,_ she told herself _(Orla had practically tackled him for God’s sake),_ _something a friend did to show affection and nothing more. Even if her stomach had exploded into butterflies when they’d made contact, when his hair tickled her forehead and he’d put his free arm around her waist. But that was just excitement of the day taking its toll._   _Nothing more._

But then, when the group had pulled apart, James grinning like an eejit as he looked at the smiling of his fellow Derry Girls, he’d looked at her a just little bit longer than the others, and there was something in his eyes that was more than platonic, more than just friendship. Not like the way he’d looked at Katya, or other girls he’d fancied. It was deeper than that, more sure…like he’d come home. 

And it scared the absolute Christ out of her.

It was that very thought that plagued her as the group wandered on, rewinding itself over and over in her head and she couldn’t make any sense of it. Truth be told, it had always sort of been there, lingering in the back of her mind, but she had gotten very good at silencing it, and all the pesky feelings that came with it. It was nonsense, nothing more - she was a smart person and Erin knew those thoughts counted for nothing in the grand scheme of things. 

So what if she occasionally noticed how his new haircut brought out his eyes and made her think that he actually had quite a handsome face, or how his shoulders had broadened over the summer? She could think these things platonically, because she was his friend. That’s what she’d told herself when he’d been with Katya, when she’d discovered he was going to sleep with her and her mind had lost all reason and she’d flown off the handle.

And she’d told herself the same thing after prom, after the _Carrie_ incident and he’d walked her home, making silly jokes and talking nonstop about _Doctor Who_ the whole way - how comfortable she’d been with him, not like with John Paul, where she had to pretend to be interesting, pretty, funny and engaging, hoping desperately he’d like her. There was no awkwardness of to kiss or not to kiss when they departed at her front door, they’d hugged and went their separate ways. 

_Although that hug had lingered a second or two longer than normal…_ Erin’s subconscious murmured. She quickly shook off the butterfly that awoke in her stomach and told herself it was simply because they were comfortable around each other. James let her be herself, and vice versa.

_Because they were friends, and friends did those things. Friends did not have feelings for each other. Not ever._

Erin sighed heavily, willing the subject to vanish from her mind. Seeing she had begun to lag behind the group, she broke into a speedy walk, and found herself falling into step with James as she reached the rear of the gang. _Shit!_ She steeled herself and tried to look normal.

‘Alright?’ James nodded to her with a smile. 

‘Yeah just, long day,’ she replied with a shrug, silent cursing herself when she stared a moment too long. _She needed to focus on something else._ She turned her head towards him. There was a pause before; ‘So… are you alright? What with, you know, your ma and all.’

He let out a breath, and stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. ‘Yeah, I’ll be fine. It’s just… I don’t know, maybe Michelle’s right about her.’ He paused for a moment before shaking his head. ‘She didn’t say anything when I got out of the taxi. Didn’t even try to stop me… I just-’ He clenched his jaw, face unreadable. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ He turned to her, and a tiny smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. ‘I’m home now.’

Despite herself, Erin smiled back, and moved closer as they made their way up the street under the orange glow of the streetlights. They walked in a few minutes’ comfortable silence before James shifted slightly and turned to her. ‘Hey, Erin?’

‘Yeah?’

‘About today; I just wanted to-’

‘MOTHAFUCKAAAAS!’

They were cut off from their conversation by Michelle’s brash voice, and Erin spotted her friend coming straight for them. _Oh dear God..._ Michelle was now hurtling towards her “Loud & Oversharing” stage of drunkenness at full speed. Erin braced herself. 

Michelle staggered over to the two. ‘Erin. Erin… Errrrin!’

‘Alright, Michelle?’ Erin said nonchalantly as Michelle proceeded to drape an arm around her friend, mostly to keep herself upright. ‘Erin, I have a question for ya. What president would you ride?’ Be honest, now!’

Erin scoffed. ‘Eh, none? All the presidents were middle-aged men.’

‘Ach come on, some of them were alright!’ Michelle took a swig from the vodka bottle, ‘The girls wouldn’t answer cause Orla doesn’t believe in sex and there were no lezzer presidents so you have to. I reckon Kennedy was a fucking ride - sure didn’t he buck Marilyn Monroe? An’ I wouldn’t fuckin’ go near Lincoln, cause with a hat that fuckin’ big he’s obviously trying to make up for something… But Kennedy, he reminds of this fella, right, I shifted him couple weeks ago-’

James piped up, ‘Michelle, we’re kind of in the middle of-’

‘Shh, _silencio_ dickface, I’m having female-chat with Erin, ’kay? No talking - in fact, don’t even listen. Turn off your ears.’ 

Erin rolled her eyes, then craned her head back to nod to James, ‘Just keep talking, she won’t notice. What were you saying?’ 

James paused abruptly, and if it hadn’t been pitch black Erin could have sworn he was turning pink. He stuck his hands in his pockets and shifted awkwardly;‘Eh, you know what? It can wait.’

Erin shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’

‘…and when I say he had a talented tongue, I’m not talking about tongue-twisters, girls.’ 

James made a slight gagging noise. ‘Jesus Christ.’

The gang continued onwards, and soon were up along the city walls.  Erin leant against wall, and couldn’t help but stop and look out over the city. For the first time she saw how unusually pretty Derry could be, lit up by thousands of tiny lights, some homes, shops and places of worship, that burst with life and noise round the clock, were for once quiet and peaceful. It was almost as if Derry had halted its chaos just for a few moments for them. 

'Hey, are you's coming?’ Clare's voice suddenly broke their silence, and they turned to see that the gang was about to start for home.

‘We’ll catch up,’ James replied. Clare nodded and the group walked on until they were out of sight.  ‘I can’t believe I nearly left this place,’ he mused, and she followed his gaze to Guildhall Square, the stage now empty and littered in flags, popped balloons and streamers. ‘I’m sorry you guys had to miss seeing the President. Impeccable timing from me, right?’ He let out a half-hearted laugh at his own joke.

Erin smiled, and bumped his shoulder affectionately. ‘It was worth it. Besides, I think we can call it even after you missed your creep convention for prom.’

‘You know, it actually ended up being kind of fun - until we got _Carrie_ -d, anyway,’ 

Erin then turned to look at him; ‘What did you want to tell me?’

James paused, and set his gaze beyond the wall, suddenly solemn. Erin felt a pang of worry. _Oh God, had she_ _done something wrong? Was he okay - was it Michelle, or Mrs Mallon? His mum?_ ‘…James?’

He kept his gaze fixed on the skyline; ‘I just… I wanted to apologise.’ 

Erin’s brow furrowed in confusion; ‘For what?’

‘Nearly leaving without saying goodbye.’

Erin held back a scoff of disbelief; ‘James, you did say goodbye, to all of us. What are you-’

‘I didn’t know how to say goodbye to _you_ , Erin.’ He exhaled heavily, and turned to face her, something his eyes she didn’t recognise. ‘I thought if I just got it over with and left it would be easiest, but - I couldn’t, because you’re important to me. And not just because we’re friends.’

James laid his hand on top of hers, and Erin’s heart started beating like a caged bird. He was looking at her in a way he’d never done before, right into her eyes, searching, wanting. A million thoughts flew through her head, of Katya, of John-Paul, prom night, all the little looks he’d given her in the past, the smile and kind words, every time she’d ever looked at him or talked to him and felt completely at home and herself, full of warmth.

'Erin, I-'

But then his words faded out and were replaced with memories the riots, of soldiers on the streets, hearing of people losing their kneecaps just for talking, being seen with to the wrong person, bomb scares, the angry looks people would get when they walked with James on the way to school, a nd suddenly, it was all too much for her and too real and she didn’t know wether she wanted to stay standing here with him forever or go running in the opposite direction and shoveler feelings deep down inside and try to ignore them.

Erin being Erin, she chose the latter. By the time she got to her house, had flung open the front door and ran upstairs ignoring the shouts of her ma about being late and escaped into the safety of her bedroom, a cloud of dread was settling over her as she realised what had just happened.

There were certain rules to being a Derry girl. 

Never talk back to a solider.

Never go outside during a riot.

But most important of all, _never_ catch yourself fancying an English lad. 

Too bad Erin had just broken that rule into a billion pieces.


End file.
